


We Were Forged

by wefellasangels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Night at the beach, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 14:55:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4184079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wefellasangels/pseuds/wefellasangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean, and Castiel spend some time at the beach (freaking finally).</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were Forged

**Author's Note:**

> requested by @yup-i-do-like-that-show on tumblr: "Beach day!!! Team free will chillin at the beach on a day off."

“Alright…here we go. Ice cream for you, little brother; ice cream for me; and none for the angel buzzkill.”

Sam laughs and begins eating as Dean settles down on the sand next to him.

Castiel sighs, a little irritated. “Dean, I don’t eat.”

“So? Would it kill you to have _one_ scoop of ice cream? Just _one_?”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

Sam and Dean stare at the angel, waiting for him to elaborate in some way. He doesn’t.

“Well, uh…okay then,” Sam says lamely, as he continues eating.

For a few moments, the three of them sit in silence and watch the inky waves wash over the shore. It’s about three thirty in the morning and they’re the only ones on Pismo Beach. 

“I didn’t think it was customary to go to the beach so early in the morning,” Castiel comments quietly.

 “Uh, no…it’s not really,” Sam says kindly. “But it’s a lot less crowded.”

“And a hell of lot more fun,” Dean adds, finishing his ice cream. He stands up and walks a few yards down the beach, picking up sticks, small logs, and anything wood.

“Sam, what’s he doing?”

“You’ll see.” Sam says. Finishing his own ice cream he stands up, pulls Castiel to his feet, and they both follow after Dean.

When they finally meet up with Dean, Castiel narrows his eyes in confusion.

“What’s that?” he asks, staring at the formation of wood in the sand.

“It’s for a bonfire, Cas,” Dean answers, excited. He was trying to remember the last time he and Sam made a bonfire…well, recreationally, at least.

“Bonfire...” Castiel repeats, his interest peaked.

Sam and Dean make eye contact and smile at the child-like wonder on Castiel’s face. Dean gives a nod and Sam reaches into his pocket, taking out a book of matches. He strikes all of them at once and throws the book into the pile of wood. Within seconds, everything catches fire and the flames shudder against the night.

God knows they’ve all seen too many fires – that they’ve seen too much destruction caused by them.  But now the three of them stand around the blaze, hypnotized and held in place by the light, the heat, the energy…

An hour later, Sam, Dean, and Castiel still find themselves in front of the bonfire, sitting side by side.  Suddenly, Castiel stands up.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Cas, where are you-“ Castiel disappears before Dean can finish asking.

Less than ten seconds later, Castiel reappears carrying several small flasks in his arms. He sets them down in the sand, save for one that he keeps in his hand.

Sam knits his brows and looks up at the angel. “What are those?”

In answer, Castiel uncaps the flask in his hands and throws its contents into the fire. Suddenly, the flames turn an untainted white. The brothers’ eyes widen in awe and they speak at the same time:

“Holy crap!”

The color-change lasts for a few more seconds, and then the fire melts back to orange. Sam and Dean scramble to their feet, each of them grabbing a flask, and talking over one other excitedly.

“Dean, stop – I’m going first!”

“Yeah, I don’t think so: _I’m_ the oldest – _I_ get to go first!”

“You always get to go first!”

“Fine! Go ahead!” Dean relents.

“Ha!” Sam exclaims triumphantly. He removes the cap from his flask and tosses the contents into the flames, turning them from orange to a violent green. The three of them stand and watch, fixated on the ethereal colors. Soon, the green fades back to orange and the spell is momentarily broken.

For the next few hours, that’s what they do. With the innocence of children, they take turns altering the color of the campfire: blues, reds, yellows, purples, golds…

At about six thirty in the morning and with one flask left, the boys watch as the sun emerges along the horizon, its rays bleeding into the water. 

“Would either of you like to…?” Castiel offers, gesturing with the flask.

“It’s all you, buddy,” Dean says, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

Sam smiles. “Yeah, go for it, Cas.”

Standing between the brothers, Castiel opens the last flask and throws its contents into the fire. The fire becomes hotter, brighter, and bigger, changing from orange to silver.

The flames burn pure silver for a long time, the rising sun a backdrop in the distance. Castiel smiles, knowing that there will never be another moment more important than 6:33am on Pismo Beach with Sam and Dean Winchester.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
